


South of the Border, Down Mexico Way

by RedLlamas



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blowjobs, Dorado (Overwatch), Español | Spanish, Forehead Touching, I can't believe I'm using these tags for the first time, Kisses, M/M, Porn, Porn With Plot, Portuguese, Sorry Not Sorry, The Get Down references, because I obviously can't write any smut w/o any background, first published smut woohoo!, handjobs, like extremely gay, lots of Spanish, originally a pwp that became the beginnings of the dismantling of the Mexican crime ring, this is gay, u'll need a translator for this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 07:33:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11031558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedLlamas/pseuds/RedLlamas
Summary: The man looks at him. He has sunglasses on. “¿Eres famoso?”“Sí.”“Entonces te protegeré, esta noche,” the man ended, downing the rest of his drink. He got up, took out some pesos and put them on the bar. “Gracias, mozo.”Lúcio looked at him go, hearing the bartender chuckle and take the money.Lúcio hosts a concert in Dorado, and meets a blonde-haired man.





	South of the Border, Down Mexico Way

**Author's Note:**

> alright kids, there are exactly eight (8) The Get Down references in here, and whoever finds all eight (8) will win a free fic of the fandom/pairing of your choosing  
> enjoy the first smut that I published  
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ～『✧~*DICKS*~✧』
> 
> title from "[South of the Border (Down Mexico Way)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LcGuoWhccMI)" by Patsy Cline

One of Lúcio’s tour destinations was Dorado, a city in Mexico known for its renewable energy and easing omnic-human relations. It had a huge power plant, and an even bigger base of corruption. Los Muertos walked freely throughout the city, always in groups, always up to something.

Not a very good place for an international superstar such as Lúcio to go. But then again, he hadn’t done very smart things in his life before, and that’s never stopped him before, so why start now?

Besides, he decided to perform here because he knew the people needed it, needed to hear music and forget their troubles, at least for a moment. And that’s just what he’s going to do.

The place was set up. Lights were everywhere, people in festive wear. Girls, boys, gender-noncohformers – all wore fluorescent makeup reminiscent of calaveras. His own DJ stage had neon art spray-painted on, streamers and balloons hung at the edges. He was supposed to perform at around nine, and with so many people around, it was probable that he’d get zapped at some point. Security guards lined the courtyard. There were guards stationed at every major entrance, exit, on buildings, behind him, in front. Total protection.

Well. They couldn’t protect him from the open bar, now, could they?

Lúcio always had one sip of cachaça before performing. The sudden rush from that one drink kept him moving for hours. As he neared the bar, he saw a figure sitting there, alone. There were some people around the court, waiting for the concert to start, but if they went to the bar, they’d leave to their friends.

He sat next to him and ordered a glass. The man next to him glanced at him, and took a drink from his own glass. “¿Vas a tocar?” he asked, his Spanish gruff with an accent.

Lúcio nodded. “Sí, es mi concierto. ¿Te quedaras y escucharas?” he asked him, his Spanish fluent. He’s just asking out of courtesy. This man seems as if he’d been here for some time now. He notices a gun holster.

The bartender serves his drink.

The man looks at him. He has sunglasses on. “¿Eres famoso?”

“Sí.”

“Entonces te protegeré, esta noche,” the man ended, downing the rest of his drink. He got up, took out some pesos and put them on the bar. “Gracias, mozo.”

Lúcio looked at him go, hearing the bartender chuckle and take the money.

~~~  
Lúcio was in the flow. The beats reverberated in his bones, his heart beat with the rhythm. He was in total synchronization with his music.

The people danced, jumped, yelled. They drank, they moved, they threw their hands up in the air.

Lúcio was sweating, the good kind. He looked up at the people, saw them having fun. He smiled.

He looked over at his guards, the ones closest to him. Marco was tapping his foot, and Carmen was looking about, searching for any threat.

The boy next to him handed him a new disc. Lúcio switched the disc on the left for the new one. This concert was supposed to be a celebration of old and new, both coming together in a harmonious event. That’s why he was using the old-style stand, using physical diskettes instead of a computer.

The sound of Herizen Guardiola’s voice rang through the air.

He bounced to the rhythm, rewinding and rewinding the discs. He had been training with the best in New York, the ones who were truly old school, for this concert. He had learned about the great ones, the men and women who had created the new movement of music, of disc-jockeying. They had taught him to look for what they called the “Get Down,” the part of the songs that would create perfect loops for a continuous beat the B-Boys and Girls could dance to.

He looked up at the people again. His eyes went back to the bar, expecting to see the man from earlier there. He wasn’t there.

Lúcio didn’t know why that made him feel, something, something bad, maybe sad.

What did he mean by that? He’ll protect him, but from what?

“♪ I’m my number one … ♪”

~~~  
Jack was currently smashing a Muerto’s face into the ground.

He had been drinking at the open bar in the plaza, finding tranquility in the whiskey. That is, until Lúcio had come to speak to him. Of course he knew who he was, he wasn’t a (total) hermit. The kid had good looks, that’s for sure.

When he said he’d protect him, he meant it. Lúcio was wanted in several Brazilian states for being a radical leader, and since he’s been touring Latinoamérica, he had to have a tight security personnel. Luckily he had Dorado as a destination, where the Soldier: 76 was taking down Los Muertos.

Once the concert officially started, Jack had stayed for about twenty minutes, watching the scene in front of him. Kid was good. He scanned the area, and saw some babosos hanging about. He followed them into a badly-lit street, and put on his mask.

He heard Elvis Crespo singing from a distance. He quirked a smile. Seems like Lúcio has good taste in music as well. As “Suavemente” played, he started pulling the low-ranging idiots out of their hiding holes, demanding them tell him where their leader could be found.

As they fell to the ground, the people in the plaza could be heard whooping.

He pulled out his gun, ol’ reliable blaster he had picked up from Overwatch’s storage units dated 2019. He had a Muerto (haha) pinned, and fired a warning shot next to his ear. The Muerto screamed and clutched his ear. Jack slapped him, and demanded once more, “¿Donde esta tu lider? ¿Donde esta el que le dicen El Demonio?”

“¡Yo no se nada! ¡Tienes al tipo equivocado, güero!” the Muerto yelled. He was crying a little bit.

“Pero sabes quién sí, ¿verdad?”

“¡Sí!”

Now we were getting somewhere.

~~~  
Jack calmly walked into the basement. It had neon lighting, and smoke everywhere. Young girls were counting money, cutting dope. He’ll get to them. But he needs the information first.

As he neared the backroom, more security appeared. They tried to attack him, but boy, did they fail. He left behind four bodies, didn’t know if they were dead or knocked out. He kicked down the door, and shot down the guards who tried to get up from the table. The man who knew about El Demonio’s whereabouts stayed still in his chair, hand frozen midway to his own gun. Jack pointed his blaster at him.

“Francis. ¿Donde esta El Demonio?”

“¿Crees que me puedes asustar con una pistola de segunda?”

“Respóndeme la pregunta.”

Francis spit to the side. “Vete a la mierda.”

“Que mal. Te querría traer conmigo,” Jack replied sardonically, shooting Francis in his shoulder. Francis yelped and gripped at the wound, cursing him.

“¡Maldito perro! ¡Nunco lo encontrarás!” Francis spat.

Jack walked towards the table. His mask was the only glow in the room.

“Me vas a decirme dónde está.”

“¿O que?”

“Mato a tu mozo. Ricardo, se llama, ¿no? ¿Pensastes que no supe sobre eso?”

A moment of silence. Francis looked up at him. He looked like a bleeding pig. Squealed like one, too.

“No lo toques, ¿oíste?” Francis pointed at him, determination in his eyes.

Behind his mask, Jack smiled. Heading in the right direction.

~~~  
Lúcio was about to finish his music. He could feel the beat through the entire plaza. The people swayed to the music, booze running through their veins, adrenaline rushing through their bodies. Lúcio felt the energy within him, too. But he knew the music had to come to a close.

Well. At least, for him. There was another DJ who’s gonna keep the beat going for those who’ll party the night away. She went by the name DJ Blue, he believes. He respected that, playing ’til the wee hours. (She was Icelandic, so of course she’s used to different hours).

He quickly scanned his audience, and when he couldn’t find the head of white hair he so desperately wanted to see again, he searched the bar. His would-be protector wasn’t there either.

Maybe he just said that, to sound cool. Maybe he didn’t even know who he was. Maybe he got caught up doing some spy shit and got entangled with Los Muertos, which is why he’s been absent for the majority of his show.

Pfffft. Yeah.

The young boy gave him the last disc he’d play tonight. The disc says “Misty Halloway “Far Far Away” Carlo Pakoussa Remix”. A classic. He smiles. Mr. Books had told him about this very special disc.

He switches the discs.

He begins tracing the Get Down, feeling it in his bones where it is. As the first disc nears its end, Lúcio fades it out into the Pakoussa. He hears his audience whoop for joy as they hear the first tones. He looks up to acknowledge those who appreciate the oldies like him, but sees the man from the bar standing in their midst, swaying and bopping to the music. The man lifts his glass to him, drinks, and continues to dance.

Lúcio is captivated by him. The mere presence of him sends him into a rush, a need to be near him. To touch him. Their meeting was short, but it was all it took – a brush of legs, the smell of cologne, the man’s eyes reflective behavior to Lúcio’s lips as he licked them – all it took to get him interested, pheromones buzzing high.

Lúcio had never wanted to end a concert so quickly.

But he kept on playing, mixing the Pakoussa with his own rhythm. He barely spared any glances on his discs, instead trying to find the man. He was moving slowly towards the bar, where it wasn’t too crowded. He kept looking back at him, a slight smile playing on his lips. He knew he had Lúcio’s full attention, and boy, was he smug about it.

Lúcio shook his head, snapped out of it. After his concert, they would be able to talk, among other things.

As Misty’s voice rang out, Pakoussa’s beat starting to end, Lúcio started itching to leave. When the song finally ended, small fireworks fired off in two straight lines by his sides. His audience cheered for the music and their entertainer. Lúcio smiled and bowed. He shook the kid’s hands, thanking him, and waved to his audience one last time. As he started leaving the stage, Marco and Carmen moved to escort him. He passed the Blue girl on the stairs, bid her good luck, clapped her shoulder, and continued. He knew she could keep this going. After all, it was only twelve. This fiesta should easily last until three, four in the morning.

After making sure Marco and Carmen trust him enough to wander about alone (they don’t, but still), Lúcio made his way to the bar. The man was facing away from him, but seemed to know exactly when Lúcio was near. He turned, and Lúcio stood there, struck by the intense blue of his eyes.

“Me gusta tu estilo,” he said, practically purring. Smart choice, as this made Lúcio lean into his personal bubble. He sat down.

“¿Te gustaría ver más?” Lúcio asked. The man (damn, he needs a name) leaned forward, and spoke, “Mi hombre es Jack. Ya sabes que gritar.”

“Soy Lúcio, aunque tal vez ya lo sabías,” Lúcio smiled. A very straightforward man, he could dig it.

Jack smiled, too. “Sí, pero me gusta escuchar tu voz.”

“Si te gusta mi voz, deberías escuchar mis gritos,” Lúcio was being much more bolder than he would usually be. Must be Jack.

Jack whistled at that, raising his eyebrows. He took a swig of his drink, set some pesos on the counter, and asked him, “¿Nos vamos?”

“Yo te sigo a donde sea,” Lúcio got up as Jack did. He took his hand and started leading him away from the plaza. Lúcio was giddy and excited, he hoped Jack was as well. Maybe the way that Jack was walking was an indicator of that.

Jack pulled him into a closed space, next to a door just a ways from the plaza. He pinned him to the door, and whispered in his ear, “Te ves como un bocadillo.” Lúcio couldn’t help but laugh. Jack pulled back, very confused. “¿Que dije?”

“Me llamaste un sándwich,” Lúcio giggled. Jack groaned, and hung his head. He heard Jack mutter a very disappointed, “Fuck,” and decided to ask, “What did you want to say?”

Jack buried his face in his neck, his voice muffled, “I wanted to tell you I think you’re delicious and that I’m going to eat you up, bite by bite. But I had forgotten that Spanish works differently, and every country has different words and meanings for everything, so I guess I ruined the moment.”

Lúcio laughed at that, face burning. He grabbed Jack’s face and held it close, staring into those baby-blue eyes. “You didn’t ruin the moment. And the Spanish is fine, we can talk in English if you want.” Jack licked his lips before leaning to finally kiss him. It was a hot kiss, open-mouthed, with Jack rutting himself against Lúcio’s leg, Lúcio panting when they finally broke for air. He caressed Jack’s body and finally pressed down on his crotch, feeling how firm he was. Jack breathed hotly on his ear, helping his own dick harden.

Jack moaned into his neck and started sucking on his skin. After leaving two circles on his clavicle, he purred, “Eu poderia falar em português, mas estou um pouco enferrujado.” That did more to turn Lúcio on than Jack’s previous ministrations, of which currently consisted of one of his hands trying to open the door without disrupting them and the other raking up and down his back.

“Você parece perfeito para mim,” Lúcio replied, feeling the door behind him give way. “Mas eu acho que devemos entrar if you don’t want to drop me on the floor.” Jack hummed at that, and nodded.

“There’s a room on the second floor, near the end,” Jack supplied as he reluctantly stopped and started herding them into the small motel. Lúcio bounded up the stairs, but kept on almost tripping because Jack would pull him back into him, kissing his neck. Lúcio sighed, but tugged him towards the room. “We don’t want to get arrested for public indecency, do we?”

“Oh honey, that’d be the lightest charge I’d have gotten,” Jack assured, following him into his room. Once inside, he took off his shoes and socks, placing on sock on the door handle. Lúcio grinned at that, taking off his own shoes and socks, saying, “You really think they’d bother us without the sock?”

“Bueno, uno tiene que ser precavido en esta vida,” Jack replied, going towards Lúcio, who ran his hands over his chest. He started to unbutton his shirt, Jack’s hands on his ass.

“No tendrás que serlo conmigo,” Lúcio said, as he took off Jack’s shirt, caressing the exposed skin, goosebumps under his hand. Jack was fit, his chest made of planes and muscle. He leaned to bite his neck, starting at his jugular notch, where he sucked and bite until he heard Jack moan above him. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he said breathlessly.

Jack started tugging on his own shirt, but since it was a tank top, Lúcio took it off himself. He felt the cool air on his skin, and Jack licked away the goosebumps on his neck, meanwhile backing them up to the bed. His legs hit the edge, and Jack gently pushed him down on it. Finally laid down on the bed, Jack kissed him passionately, tugging on his hair tie, Lúcio raking his own hands through his short hair. Jack rolled his hips against his, which elicited a moan from Lúcio. Jack kept grinding, making them both want more, both straining.

Lúcio sought to get rid of their pants, starting with Jack’s. He tried to undo his pants as they kissed, but found that Jack was very intent on making them come from grinding alone. He bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, which let him have a few seconds of peace to unbuckle and unzip Jack’s pants. Jack turned away to wipe his mouth, then looked back at Lúcio. “You did that on purpose? To get my pants off?”

Lúcio looked back up at him, a sly smile on. “Did you like it?” He pushed his jeans down along with his underwear. His dick finally out, Lúcio stroked it a few times, earning those sweet moans Jack makes. Jack’s eyes closed and hung his head. His hand went down to Lúcio’s pants, undoing them in quick fashion, and thrust his hand down his boxers. The sudden contact on his dick made Lúcio gasp and bump foreheads with Jack. He was going to lean back but Jack kept their foreheads touching, a giggle escaping him. They both laughed as they stroked each other, enjoying the moment.

“As lovely as this has been, I’d rather much like to be inside you right now,” Jack uttered.

“Oh, yes, I would prefer that as well,” Lúcio agreed. Jack took a tube of lube out from his pocket, then shimmied out of his bottoms and started kissing his way down Lúcio’s body, licking a nipple and squeezing the other. Lúcio arched into the touch, wanting more, his fingers making knots in Jack’s hair. Jack continued his journey, placing kisses here and there, placing a hickey right on his navel. This close to Lúcio’s cock, he started taking off his jeans and boxers, throwing them to the side. Finally exposed, Jack props himself up to properly look at Lúcio. Lúcio doesn’t feel anything, so he looks down at Jack, and sees him looking at him adoringly. He can feel himself heating up, and embarrassedly asks, “What?”

“You’re gorgeous,” Jack states matter-of-factly. He leans to give his dick a kiss, and looks up at him again. “Perfect in every way.”

Lúcio feels hot all over now. He covers his face and groans (both from the compliment and the kiss). “Meu Deus, meu Deus,” Lúcio repeats.

Jack starts licking him from the base upwards, whispering, “Oh meu Deus, você é tão linda.” He licks him once, twice, thrice more, and has Lúcio in a frenzy, grasping at the sheets, at his head. He finally takes him all in, a hot presence on his cock. What was more was that with his free hand, he uncaps the tube, squeezes some lube out, and starts fingering Lúcio. Lúcio is writhing beneath him, arched back completely off the bed, sheets nearest him a wrinkled mess. He starts canting his hips, wanting, needing more, on him, inside him, moaning loud enough for the neighbors to hear. The hand not scissoring in him is trying to hold him down by his dick, squeezing from base to tip, with Jack’s lips pressing kisses all over it.

Lúcio seemed to be getting close. Jack stopped everything he was doing to get up and rifle through the drawer next to the bed. Lúcio opened his eyes, gasping for breath. He looked over at Jack, who finally found what he was looking for (a handy-dandy condom), and was about to reprimand him for leaving him cold and open to the air when Jack shushed him with an open-mouthed kiss as he got back into bed. Lúcio held his hips close to his, rocking them together. Jack gasped into his mouth, feeling the precome on him. Lúcio pulled them apart and angrily whispered, “Get in me.”

Jack eagerly nodded, sitting up to take the condom from its packet and slip it on. Lúcio opened his legs, a bit shyly, but desirous nonetheless. He bit his lip. Jack lubed his dick, then moved to line up his cock to Lúcio’s entrance, and slowly slid in. Lúcio’s head fell back on the pillow. Jack slid out at the same pace, earning an out-of-breath, “Oh God,” and started to move, keeping a rhythm. In, out, in, out, Jack’s tempo started to get a bit faster. Lúcio wrapped his arms around his neck, and his legs around his hips. Jack held himself by one arm, and used the other to hold Lúcio beneath him, thrusting in and out. His breath came in short gasps, amazed at how tight Lúcio was.

Lúcio tried to keep rhythm, rocking against Jack’s dick. Their foreheads were touching once more, sharing the same breaths.

“Jack … Jack … oh, Jack, please, please, please Jack, I need more …” Lúcio panted.

This spurred him on, kissing him as he started to lose rhythm, starting to lose control. He was getting close, and he could feel Lúcio was as well. Lúcio ran a hand through his hair and caress his face. Jack couldn’t help but feel something in him swell at that – well, other than his cock inside him.

His thrusts were harder now, starting to hit Lúcio’s sweet spot, earning him delectable screams from his throat. The only sound in the room was that of body against body and Jack’s name.

If his neighbors didn’t already know his name, they sure do now.

“Jack! Jack, I’m going to, oh Jack – oh! oh, Jack!”

“Fuck.”

Lúcio came with a scream, Jack’s name dripping off his lips. Jack came shortly after, his orgasm so strong he went blind for three seconds. Wow.

“Wow,” he said. His arm gave out on him, and he collapsed on top of Lúcio, who was also trying to catch his breath. “I haven’t come that hard in several years.”

“Glad you enjoyed it,” Lúcio joked as he kissed him. Jack chuckled, saying, “Yeah, I went blind for a moment, it was definitely the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Lúcio was surprised at this. He went blind? Holy shit.

“Oh meu Deus, you did? Are you okay?” Did he sex him to death?? Is he going to be alright? Can he see again?

Jack laughed, nibbling at his neck. “Yes, I’m fine, don’t worry.”

They settled next to each other, Lúcio’s head on Jack’s chest. He could hear his energetic heart, still riding that high. It’ll take him a moment to recover.

“That was amazing, Jack.”

“Thanks. I pride myself in being amazing.”

Lúcio slapped his arm, but they were both laughing. Jack kissed his forehead, and reached over for the blanket to cover them both. They’ll get clean later. For now, they’ll bask in their afterglow and sleep the morning away.

The sun was starting to creep in through the window, but they both had shut their eye.

~~~  
Lúcio woke up to an empty bed.

He had turned around to feel the space next to him, which should have been occupied by a blond man, but instead found a cold spot. This bothered him. He opened his eyes, and sat up. He looked around the room, and saw that on the pillow next to his was a note. He took it and read, “Off to get breakfast, be right back!” in scrawly handwriting.

He smiled to himself.

Guess he didn’t need to worry at all.

~~~  
While Jack did go out to get breakfast, that was when he was on his way back.

He had gotten up quietly, showered, and got dressed, taking his mask and blaster with him. He needed to make a stop at a certain Mr. Francis de la Cruz’s house first.

The night shift was turning in, and was being replaced with the morning shift. A few knocked out guards and five cameras disabled later, Jack managed to get in the house. He walked cautiously to where he believed the master bedroom was. Upon coming up to the door, he kicked it open.

“Toc toc,” he announced. He walked in, noting that Ricardo was in bed with Francis. He went to the windows and pulled back the curtains, letting in the sunshine. He went and sat on the bed, where Ricardo was now trying to hide himself and Francis was defiantly staring at Jack.

“¿Que estás haciendo aquí?” he asked.

“Me dijiste que me ibas a dar la dirección del Demonio, por eso estoy aquí. Si no tuviera nada que hacer contigo, estaría con mi proprio Ricardo ahora,” Jack easily answered. He saw Ricardo turn red.

Francis took a robe from the floor and put it on before leaving the bed. He went over to a table next to the windows, took a paper and wrote a direction on it. He stomped back to Jack and practically flung the paper at him. “Tómalo, ahora ya no me molestes más.”

Jack graciously took the paper and headed out. “Un honor hacer negocios contigo, Francis.”

“¡Vete al demonio, Soldado!”

The door shut on Francis.

~~~  
There was a nice little tiendita by the motel. Jack came in, ordered some pastries that could pass as breakfast, paid and left, heading back to Lúcio.

Upon entering the room, he saw that Lúcio wasn’t there. He felt wronged, in a way, until he heard the shower from the bathroom. Amazing, this gave him time to change.

He set the breakfast bag down, took off his mask and hid it in his bag, took off his jacket and stuffed it in the closet, and holstered his blaster and stuffed it in the bag. When he reached for the bag again, he was just in time as Lúcio came out, drying his dreads. He smiled when he saw Jack, seeing that he had a bag. “Is that breakfast?”

Jack grinned, replying, “Would you rather I eat you?”

Lúcio walked up to him, still wet, and gave him a kiss, taking the bag from his hands. “I just got clean. Plus, I wouldn’t want the food to go to waste.” He sat on the bed, opening the bag and taking out a toast.

Jack sat next to him, taking a buñuelo from the bag. “You could always get clean again. And the food definitely wouldn’t go to waste.”

“We could get cleaned together this time, saving time and money,” Lúcio said, desire clear in his eyes.

~~~  
They did give it another go, after all. And they did shower together, not counting the various times that they started and had to stop because someone didn’t want to wait to get out to do another round.

When Lúcio finally had to go, it was with exchanged numbers and kisses. Jack actually walked him to the actual hotel Lúcio was supposed to stay at. Once in the reception, Marco and Carmen came for Lúcio. In their final moments together, they shared one final kiss.

“Call me?” Lúcio asked, foreheads touching.

“Definitely,” Jack answered, caressing his face.

“Okay, bye,” Lúcio gave him one final final kiss.

“Bye,” Jack gave him one final final final kiss.

“Mr. Correia,” Carmen said. This time, they did peck each other goodbye, and Lúcio looked back at Jack, waving. Jack waved back, and saw him leave. He sighed.

He’s definitely gonna call him. Probably after the Los Muertos job was over. Yeah, definitely.


End file.
